Love and War, Forevermore
by RichardHusky
Summary: The Hero of Ferelden, William Cooper Cousland, is dead. The Fifth Blight is over, and the Archdemon is slain. Ten years have passed since the last son of the Cousland bloodline absorbed the soul of the dragon, but some still mourn his sacrifice with tears. At the Conclave, a rift known as the Breach has opened in the sky. The blast killed many people... and brought back one.
1. The Felling of the Archdemon

**Hello, there! This is going to be my first attempt at anything even remotely romance, so bear with me here. (Lets be honest, I'm probably going to have much more realistic romantic relationships in this story than that of BioWare. Silly BioWare and their ridiculous pillow-talk.)**

**This isn't going to be all romance, however. There's gonna be action, there's gonna be quite a few differences, and there's gonna be... erm... _action_. Possibly. Probably not.**

**Whatever. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this first chapter, and I really hope that you like it enough to give me some feedback... _or_ hate it enough to give me some feedback. Feedback is appreciated, is the point.**

**Take a gander.**

**~Husky**

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><p>Tired. Sweating. Hungry. Blood everywhere. The lingering want of a short rest was strong. What the only living child of the Cousland bloodline wouldn't give to break from the hellish combat for just a moment, and return to fight without worry of failure. The demanding force of the Darkspawn threat, and that of the Archdemon, would never allow such a foolish notion, however.<p>

William Cooper Cousland sank his blade of veridium into the neck of a nearby Hurlock, took a step forward and cut down a Genlock. He blocked a heavy strike with his bulwark of a shield and countered, stabbing his blade deep into the attackers chest. He ripped it out from the side and drew on his flank, very narrowly dodging a deadly strike from a Hurlock General.

Four penetrating arrows sprouted in place between the chinks in the General's heavy plate armor, and it stumbled to its knees. William saw his chance to strike and brought his sharp blade down neatly in the center of the Darkspawn scum's helmet, the harder veridium slicing through the iron like warmed butter. Blood dripped from the Cousland's sword as he drew back in a sawing motion and span full circle, beheading the foul beast. As it fell, he looked to the source of the arrows.

He knew where they had come from, but such a fair sight was one that he could not pass up viewing. Leliana sent a warm smile in return of his gaze, the blood spattered on her magnificent features and her ginger hair, adding only to her voluptuous beauty in a way which William could not describe.

Ever since he had first laid eyes upon the bard, he had known that she was the one for him. It was not known by him until later, of course, that Leliana held the same feelings, for she had developed such a respect for the Grey Warden that it evolved into love. Through thick and thin, in Redcliffe, Orzammar, the Circle and the Brecillian Forest, they talked, fought side by side with Alistair and Morrigan, and shared secrets. Neither knew that the other was deeply in love with them.

William turned to his blind side to see a sharp blade cutting down two Darkspawn at once, the last in the vicinity. Their bodies dropped to the stone brick flooring, and Alistair drew his sword back, ready to continue fighting.

He breathed a heavy sigh and looked around. Realizing that the bridge was clear, he lowered the blade to his side and sheathed it.

Alistair was a lion hearted warrior, but his cynicism veiled his strong spirit. His personality differed so greatly from others that William often found himself flustered when he spoke to him. They were similar in the fact that they were heirs to faded bloodlines, Alistair being the last living son of King Maric. Cailan was killed at Ostagar. Alistair supported his late brother's wife, Queen Anora, more than himself for the throne, as did his Warden friend. William looked at Alistair and did not see a king; he saw a warrior, and the warrior saw the same.

William had always thought Alistair to be a bit childish, perhaps a tad unorthodox when it came to certain situations, but he trusted his fellow Grey Warden with his life.

They had to, of course. As Grey Wardens, their fates were sealed. During initiation, each Grey Warden drank the blood of Darkspawn, and doing so made their bodies perfect vessels for the Archdemon. When the people of Thedas felled the first four Archdemons, each time one was slain a Grey Warden always was to be present, so that the spirit of the Archdemon could enter the Warden's body, killing the spirit. Unfortunately, this meant the death of the Warden as well. William knew well that either he or Alistair was to die if Ferelden, and the rest of Thedas, was to be saved from the Fifth Blight.

William had only discovered this about two hours before, words uttered from the lips of the now deceased Grey Warden Riordan. He was willing to die for the rest of the people in his life to live. Still, he was not looking forward to death. He could not stare it in the face as some could.

Thinking about it put a grim look upon his face.

We can't stop now, Will." Alistair said, a light look on his face. "Perk up, eh?"

"How can you be so relaxed in a situation like this?" Will responded, heading forward. "You know that our fates are already decided, but you almost look at peace."

Alistair grimaced, pawing at a deep cut in his arm. He winced. "I'm not. I just have... a feeling. A good one."

His cut glowed a fantastic green, and the flesh on his arm knit together vigorously. William looked up. Morrigan held a pleasant aura around her, healing everyone of their wounds.

Morrigan was... it was not a simple task to describe Morrigan. As an apostate Mage, she resided in the Korcari Wilds when Ostagar was attacked, and had since played a crucial role in the war against the Darkspawn. She was deadly, an icy and frozen island in the middle of a molten world.

"We have little time to idly sit and chat about fate." She said. "I don't want for any more to die."

"That was... rather strange of you to say, Morrigan." Alistair replied.

"...Of course, if I truly have to, I could transform _you_ into a horse, Alistair, and we would spare no time reaching the top of the Fort." She chuckled. "It would make for a fair bit of entertainment."

"...There's the witch I know. I was wondering when you would come to your senses." He finished with a sigh. He bent down to the Darkspawn in front of him, searching it's corpse for supplies.

William turned his head to the right. Leliana was checking her bowstring, making sure that it was properly taut and not breaking. She looked up for a moment and met eyes with William. After only a moment, they could both feel themselves blushing, and Leliana looked back down to her bow. She was only pretending to fiddle with it, now.

"Thanks. That one had me on the ropes." William said.

She gave him a crooked smile. "I told you that you should wear a helmet. Its axe near cleaved your head."

"Eh."

After a few steps, looking at her feet for that time, she spoke up again. "How are you always so... relaxed?"

Deja vu. He had just asked Alistair the same question. "I'm not." William responded.

"But how is it that you just shrug a near miss like that off?" She asked. "Every time I dodge an attack like that, I... I think of how close it came."

"Of all people, I wouldn't take you as fearful." He said with a grin.

In honesty she had never thought of such a thing. Once, when she was still in Orlais, an arrow flew past her neck and through her hair and she hadn't thought twice. She was fretting about Wiliam. After all, she did care about him.

When she heard this, however, she was offended. "I am _not_-"

Instinctively, William raised his shield in front of her, and a pair of arrows smashed into it with great force. "Snipers!" William yelled. He looked to Leliana. "We can talk later, get behind me!"

Arrows soared from across the bridge, in the higher towers. Leliana hid behind William, whose shield was still raised like an enormous wall. Morrigan cast a protective spell on Alistair and dove for cover.

Darkspawn emitted blood-clurdling roars and battle cries from all around. Several Darkspawn advanced towards the four from the front. Leliana notched a particularly powerful looking arrow into her bow and drew back with all of her strength. She let go of the string, and the arrow flew straight like a missile, hitting one of the archers dead in the chest. Morrigan fired a blast of magic from her staff and lit the archer aflame. As she and William advanced, she notched another and killed the second one. Seeing that the archers were downed, William lowered his bulwark and charged with Alistair.

William brought his sword down on the first Darkspawn he reached with enough vigor to slice through solid steel.

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><p>"Up ahead. This is where the Archdemon landed." William said. The only thing separating them was a high flight of stairs and a metal gate. How simple it would be to fail. One wrong move meant death. Not just of them, but all of Thedas. Both Ferelden and Orlais' futures hung in the balance.<p>

William audibly swallowed. He took the first step up the stairs, his ankles and knees suddenly feeling incredibly weak. No turning back, now. It wasn't like he wanted to, however. He knew what was at stake. Including himself.

"Darkspawn don't stand a chance." Alistair muttered. He sounded as though he was convincing himself more than anyone else, but the uplifting sentence stuck in William's mind. He took his first step up.

When he reached the top and pulled the lever to open up the gate, he could see it. The Archdemon was, with wounded wing, attempting to circle the tower. It knew that the Grey Wardens were there. It was ready to resume its slaughter.

As he looked upon the new battlefield, upon the dead Fereldan soldiers and their scattered weapons, something within William ignited. It was an enormous mix of feelings, ranging from anger at the murderous beast for all of the deaths to fear of death by its tooth and claw. All of them boiled down to one powerful emotion.

Hate.

The cursed dragon roared a mighty and gut-wrenching roar, increasing into a pitch so loud that William could feel his eardrums shake. Alistair and Leliana flinched at the roar, and Morrigan cast a protective spell upon the rest of them, preparing for the coming fight.

William drew his veridium blade. He inhaled the air around him, then exhaled heavily.

The air smelled of copper, like blood.

"Andraste, protect us." William muttered.

The Archdemon landed, shaking the stone beneath it. Fire shot from its open maw, and the four scattered to either side. Morrigan rolled and jumped to her feet, casting a spell of ice onto their weapons as she ran. William and Alistair charged forward, Leliana's ice enchanted arrows zipping past their ears and into the Archdemon's scales.

The freezing slashes of their swords, along with the combined damage of Leliana's arrows and Morrigan's powerful magic, slowly chiseled away at the dragon. The beast was not simply letting them attack, lax like a tomcat, but swinging both tail and leg in the attempt to smash them to death. William leapt over the Archdemon's swinging tail and slashed the beast's Achilles tendon. It roared in fury and pain, spinning to face him. It's tail swung and connected with Leliana, sending her flying across the tower. She hit the ground and slid on the rain-slicked stone, scraping the exposed skin of her hands.

"Leliana!" William shouted.

The Archdemon slammed its claw into his chest knocking him to the ground. An enormous blast of frost magic slammed into the dragon, and it staggered, nearly collapsing. William pushed himself up and ran to Leliana, who was trying to stand. He reached her and brought her to her feet, trying to be as gentle as possible.

"Are you okay?" William asked. She grabbed his hand and tenderly pushed it from her shoulder.

"I'm fine!" She shouted, the now pouring rain and the beat of the Archdemon's wings filling the air. "Go!"

William hesitated, but when he saw the urgent look in her eyes, he found himself nodding. She drew an arrow and fired it past him, the incredibly accurate shot hitting the Archdemon in its eye. An incredible roar shook the entire tower, and the beat of wings shot back. William spun, setting it barely keeping in the air, and watched it land out on the tower across from them. He ran forward, keeping an eye on the dragon whilst he formulated a battle plan. Alistair was digging through his hip pouch, looking for something. On his face was a deep claw cut from his right temple to his top lip. It was bleeding heavily, and it looked as if the wound would scar. He pulled out of his pocket a leaf of Elfroot and stuck it in his mouth, chewing on it to numb the pain.

"We need a better plan than this!" William shouted. "We'll all be dead within the hour if we keep going like this!"

"I've got an idea!" Alistair replied. "There!"

He pointed with one hand to a pair of ballistae mounted against the tower wall. The wooden war machines were aimed perfectly towards the opposite tower, but they would need to be readjusted to hit the Archdemon. Morrigan blasted spell after spell at the dragon, but they didn't seem to be highly fazing the beast.

William mounted one of the two ballistae and drew back the crank, loading a shot onto the weapon as the rain soaked the wood. The Archdemon roared once more, this time much more high pitched...

No. The Archdemon's maw was closed. The sound wasn't that of a roar, but screeching. William turned as Darkspawn Shrieks and Hurlocks funneled through the gate. Leliana turned to the monsters, fired several times at the monsters and began to flee towards the rest of the group. There was a distinct limp in her run. She likely was hurt from when she skid across the tower.

"Alistair, cover Leliana!" William shouted. Alistair looked to him and nodded, then ran to her. She had pulled out a pair of sharp and deadly looking knives and was fatally wounding every Darkspawn that got close.

William adjusted the ballista to aim at the Archdemon, which was rising triumphantly over the heavy rain and the screeching of the Shrieks. He couldn't wait for the genocidal monster to be slain.

He reached out to release the crank and fire the fifty pound arrow into the Archdemon's chest, but his arm halted in place. Suddenly, he was yanked back by an invisible force, thrown to the ground. A Shriek materialized in front of him and let out a blood-curdling screech, making his eardrums hurt with piercing pain. It raised its arms, blades made of bone sprouting out of its forearms, and drove them down. He rolled to the side and stood, drawing his sword as he got to his feet. He span, bringing a furious slash down upon the Shriek's ugly head. It collapsed, its tainted blood staining the cracked stone bricks underfoot. The Archdemon was flapping its wings, getting ready to take off again.

"Morrigan! Keep the Archdemon from getting into the air!" William shouted. She was dancing with her staff, shooting blasts of arcane magic towards closeby Darkspawn with every moment passed. She aimed the staff squarely in the middle of a trio that was charging at her and blasted a large wave from the staff, knocking them flat. She spun towards the Archdemon and aimed her staff with a dark look in her eyes. A bright veil of magic fell over the dragon as it lifted from the ground, and the Archdemon slammed to the ground with great force. A heavy snapping echoed through the humid air as scales shattered and skin cracked. William ran to the ballista and aimed it directly at the Archdemon's head as it roared in pain, then pulled the crank.

The enormous arrow zipped through the air, but the dragon moved its head slightly. The heavy missile pierced the Archdemon's neck, causing dragon blood to spill across the stone. It tried to roar, but instead a grotesque crackling of blood and phlegm split through the air, similar to the sound of splitting wood. The crushing prison of magic faded, and the highly injured dragon began to take off, this time much slower than before.

He turned to Morrigan to thank her, but she was on her knees, fending off Darkspawn with a bloody nose.

He ran to her side and helped her up as she casted a frost spell, freezing and shattering the Darkspawn she had knocked to the ground.

"I'm fine." She said. "I'll... I'll be fine."

As she finished her sentence, the crackling, bloody roar of the Archdemon shot through the air. It was weak, and William knew it. All it would take was a dozen or so more well placed vital hits, and maybe, just maybe...

The remaining Hurlocks and Shrieks cowered in response to Leliana and Alistair's strikes. They were cut down in an instant, and at precisely the moment when the last Hurlock hit the ground, the Archdemon slammed down as well, shaking the tower with its epic weight. From nearly twenty feet away, Leliana could hear it breathing as its blood leaked out onto the water damaged wooden shaft of the ballista round. It turned its attention towards her, fury in its eyes. Although the round pierced its throat, it revved itself to exhale a blast of flame in her direction. Alistair realized this, and he pushed Leliana out of the way.

The flames shot out from in between the possessed dragon's enormous fangs, and the flames shot towards Alistair. He raised his shield, attempting to block the flames, but the hard maple shield ignited, and, upon his realization of this, he slipped on the wet stone. His body was engulfed under the flames, and he was put out of William's view by the Archdemon's body.

"_Alistair!_" William screamed.

"No!" Leliana shouted.

Leliana scrambled to her feet and fired her last arrow into the Archdemon's maw. The dragon choked on the arrow, and the flames stopped, the cries of pain from the dragon instead being shot from its grisly throat.

Alistair lay there, motionless. The raindrops sizzled against his metal armor.

As the Archdemon struggled to dislodge the arrow from its gullet, William and Morrigan sped across the tower, disregarding the dragon.

Leliana had rolled Alistair over. Her fingers were against his neck. She was shaking him, trying to rouse him.

He didn't move.

Morrigan readied a powerful healing spell, her strongest revitalization magic, and she cast it on him. William reached his side as she cast it.

"No, no no no... wake up, please." William muttered. "Alistair! Wake up, dammit! Come on!"

Half of his face was severely burned, his hair singed and darkened by the fire. The color had drained from his face.

"Is he breathing?" Morrigan asked. Her healing spells weren't doing anything.

"No." Leliana said. "I don't... I don't think that he's..."

William shut his eyes. He blocked out her words. He knew that if he heard them, that she believed his friend to be dead, then it would surely be true.

For him, everything was silent. No sound, not even the heavy pitter-pattering of the rain against the stone pierced his little world. There was so much that he could have done. To stop it, to... to...

His silence was shattered by a tremendous roar. As the foul crackling filled the air, all other sounds returned. He opened his eyes.

"Morrigan, Leliana, make sure that the both of you are here when he wakes up."

Leliana looked up. "...What are you-"

"Have my ashes scattered in the wind atop the Temple of Sacred Ashes." He said. "When I reach the Golden City, I plan to give the Maker a piece of my mind."

"Wh... no!" Leliana said, standing up with him. He turned his back to them. "You cannot do this!"

"I have to!"

"_No!_" She shouted.

"_I have no other choice!_" He replied.

"No, you-"

William grabbed Leliana by her shoulders and brought her forward in a kiss, pressing his lips to hers and passionately holding her. He drew his lips away, and her stunned expression when he pulled away left a warmth in his heart.

"Leliana, I love you."

She felt as though she could not breathe, a weight on her shoulders lifted. Before she could respond in any way, however, William clutched his sheathed sword, turned and ran at the dragon.

"William!" She shouted.

"Let him go, Leliana!" Morrigan said.

The Archdemon locked its eyes upon the charging Grey Warden. The hate of one another was a prominent sensation in the air. The footfalls of William's heavy leather boots smacked the wet stone as he sprinted, and his heavy breathing rung in his own ears.

The Archdemon roared, louder than ever before.

"_For Ferelden!_" William shouted over its roars.

With a powerful jump, he sailed five feet into the air and dug his sword into the dragon's scales, landing his veridium sword in the beast's neck hilt deep.

The Archdemon screeched in immense pain, it's front legs collapsing as it whipped its neck to the side. William let go of the sword and dropped to the ground, rolling as he landed. The dragon was practically helpless, injured in such a multitude of places that it could barely move. It swiped its claw at William pathetically, but he jumped out of the way. A nearby dead soldier lay against a wall, a greatsword clutched in her hands. William said a silent prayer for the soldier as he removed the sword from her grip and grabbed it, hand over hand.

"_Die__!_" William shouted as he charged.

The Archdemon's head lay on the ground. It was struggling to stand, and it couldn't move its neck. He brought the greatsword up above his head. He leapt, ready to bring the sword down upon its neck. In the middle of the air, he accepted his fate.

He was going to die, but... He wasn't afraid.

The blade slammed through the wall of scales and sliced skin, then bone. The last of the Archdemon's cries were muffled by the slashing of metal to stone. The blade cut through.

He backed up. He dropped the sword on the ground. The Archdemon's neck and body slammed against the ground, the brick shaking. There was no sound but the pouring rain.

A glimmer of light flashed from the dragon's neck. William looked into it. He saw a brilliant flash of light, and a force slammed into him, knocking him off of his feet.

The last thing that he heard was Leliana screaming.

He never felt himself hit the ground.


	2. The Witch, the Warden and the Bard

From the ground, all could see the intense and powerful shockwave that shot outwards at the top of Fort Drakon. It ripped though the clouds and shook the tower with such great force that, for a moment, seemed that the tower would fall. In the heart of the shockwave was an explosion that emanated from the Archdemon. Darkspawn retreated in fear, and those who were not fast enough were slain by Fereldan soldiers.

For ten minutes, the army below celebrated victory. Tears of joy were cried, friends reunited, and the cheering could be heard for miles. Some even danced with one another, and a handful of soldiers kissed.

The doors of Fort Drakon slowly opened, and soldiers began to cheer when they saw the heroes, their saviors. But then, all fell silent when they saw their condition.

Out of the front door limped Alistair, in extreme pain but very much alive. Horrid and terrible burns covered the entire right half of his face. The hair on that side was singed and burned, and his eyebrows were gone. The once handsome Warden now looked as beautiful as a drake without scales.

Behind him walked Morrigan, her hand on his back to steady him as he walked. She had a grim look. She never showed much emotion, but now she felt nothing but a sense of regret and sadness that could be plainly seen on her pale face.

Finally, out between the doors walked Leliana. Her face was wet with tears and rain, but no one could see either under the veil of her blood red hair, which hung down along with her head. Her arms and legs were shaking violently from exertion and heaving cries. In her arms lay the body of William Cousland, his arm hanging downwards towards the ground.

To the soldiers, a Warden was dead, sacrificed to save them all.

To Leliana, the world was shattered into a thousand pieces.

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><p>Alistair sat out in the heavily pouring rain, looking at the sword that he had used just hours ago with one eye, the other covered entirely by bandages along with the rest of the right half of his face and neck. It was the blade of Duncan, the Grey Warden that conscripted him, the Grey Warden that conscripted William some time after. Maker, he could remember both Joining rituals like they were just yesterday. They had recovered the sword from Ostagar some time after its attack. Along with it, they laid to rest his half-brother, whom the Darkspawn had hung up like an ornament... but he chose not to think of it at the moment. All he had on his mind was the damned sword. Blood was dried on it, but even with the caked on mess, he could still see the sharp and amazing letters, the Grey Warden motto, etched into the razor sharp blade.<p>

**_In war, victory_****_._**

On his blind side, William's faithful Mabari hound, Badger, whined. The dog was in agony of losing its master, of that Alistair was beyond sure.

_**In peace, vigilance.**_

Guilt plagued him. When he had saved Leliana, he knew that William's fate was sealed. He wanted to save everyone. He was glad that she was alive, but... if William had been in his position, he would be alive now, too. When he came out of unconsciousness, William was...

_**In death, sacrifice.**_

He stabbed Duncan's blade into the ground at his feet, putting his hands on his forehead and pushing his fingers into his honey-blonde hair. The metal of his gauntlets froze his skin and scalp. He hadn't had time to change out of the armor, either that or he didn't want to find the time. He hadn't decided on that yet.

heard footsteps in the mud, a distinct sucking noise, as though the ground was attempting to devour the shoes of the one who walked upon it. He knew who was approaching, however. If it were to have been Leliana, then he likely wouldn't have heard her. In fact, she had probably already been nearby. No, it was no rogue.

"I'm surprised that you've stayed around for even this long." Alistair said, sighing, not looking back.

The telltale sound of an amused huff blew from Morrigan's nostrils. "It was not my original plan."

"Might I ask what your original plan was?" Alistair asked. "Because I'm having trouble wrapping my head around the promise you made me."

"Promise? Now what might this be?" She asked. "If you are referring to what you and I-"

"Enough games." Alistair said. "Why didn't it work?"

"A great many things could have attributed. I, however, know as much as you do." Morrigan uttered grimly. "The ritual failed."

"So what you're saying is, you have no clue why?" Alistair asked, turning on her. He was on his feet and almost in her face in under two seconds. Her yellow, cat-like eyes focused on his brown ones with intense precision.

"Not at all." Morrigan replied, scoffing. "If anything, it was your fault."

"You guaranteed that the soul of the Archdemon would-"

"I guaranteed nothing. All that I said was that _if_ I bore a child, _if_, it would absorb the dragon's essence instead of you or William." She said, pointing to him with her finger in his face. "Do not accuse, for that promise was one even I was unsure of."

Before the four of them charged to Redcliffe to attack the horde at its head, Morrigan made Alistair an offer. If he lay with her before the Archdemon was slain, she would have the possibility of carrying a child, and, through the use of dark magic and a darker ritual, the child would become a vessel for the soul of the Archdemon. The child would be born without the taint, and with the soul of an Old God. Though unnatural, Alistair accepted. He wished to see no one die.

"What I fail to understand, Morrigan, is why you would promise such a thing when you knew that you could be completely wrong!" Alistair said coldly.

"I am just as saddened as you!" She hissed. "Do you think yourself to be the only one who is hurt by his loss? Leliana cannot bear to see his corpse, much less hear his name! Even his _hound_ has experienced a greater loss than you!"

Alistair knew Morrigan to be cold hearted at times, perhaps inconsiderate for most of the time that he had known her. Under his breath, he had called her many things, some of which she had heard - scoundrel, witch, another word which sounded very _similar_ to witch - but her words cut so deep into his heart at that precise moment that the only word that he could find was silence, and he practiced it instead of speaking it.

His knees buckled, and he slid against the wall behind him until he was sitting on the muddy ground. Burying his head in his hands, he choked back every word that came to mind along with the ocean of guilt that washed over him. Badger nudged his nose under his arm and tried to lick his face, but Alistair pulled away.

Morrigan suddenly felt something that she had never felt for the Warden; remorse. She knew that he felt terrible already, and she had practically pounded his head into the ground. She was surprised at the feeling. It was not as though she had never felt such a thing before, but...

"Alistair, I-"

"No. You're right." He mumbled. "I'm being selfish. I haven't been able to think clearly, not since..."

Morrigan crouched down to his side and leaned against the wall with him, I'll crossing her legs as she sat to his left.

"I feel as though if I had been somewhere else, he'd still be alive now." He sighed. "He would be absolutely fine, and Leliana would be happy, and... I don't know."

"You're right. You don't know." She said with an amused look on her face. "If you had been anywhere else, then Leliana would be dead. And if William were to still be alive, he would be just as crushed, not just over her death but... yours, as the ritual did not work. You... you would have died instead."

Her tone slowly changed from one of amusement to a monotone and hollow one. What was this feeling?

"Do I detect disappointment in your voice?" Alistair asked. "If you want, I could likely crawl into a bush and die with little effort."

"I don't want you to die." She replied.

"But...?" He baited, waiting for a continuation of her sentence. _But I wouldn't mind_ _it if insert awful and painful thing here were to occur_.

This made her grin a bit. "No." She said. "No buts."

They sat there for a few minutes in silence. Alistair was thoroughly surprised. Morrigan was, as well. Every several seconds, she would glimpse at the Warden, expecting something to come from his mouth. She recalled the time back at camp but a week ago, when he had tripped and fallen whilst trying to put on his boots standing up. He damn near fell into the campfire. William was laughing, and the other Warden had chased him 'round the camp with one boot raised high in the air like a club.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Alistair asked, looking up to the sky and gesturing with his hands. "Headache? Nausea? Perhaps some sort of painful smack on the h-"

Something warm brushed his cheek, startling him. He shifted in the opposite direction quickly and stared at Morrigan.

"Did you just... put your mouth on my face?" He asked, completely taken aback.

"T'was a kiss, you fool." She said. "You do know what a kiss is, don't you?"

He reached up to his cheek, stunned. "Do you need medical attention?"

"Don't tell me that you didn't enjoy it, Alistair." She said. "The ritual."

The Grey Warden could practically feel himself turning red. "...S-so what if I did?" He asked. "It was sex, Morrigan, how wouldn't I-"

"The first time I laid eyes upon you, you were a stubborn man with the temperament of a stubborn little boy." She said, cutting him off. "Now, I see a tired man with the temperament of a tired man."

"What's your point?" He asked as soon as she finished her sentence.

"You've changed since we met. Your half sister... Goldanna was it? She was a large part of that change. William changed you. You've hardened yourself. As a result, you're practically a different person."

He lightly scoffed, but not in objection. "I hope there isn't a problem with that."

"No. I like you the way that you are now." She said with a rare smile. "I do."

"That doesn't explain why you just... oh." He said. "You mean...?"

"Yes, I believe I do."

"Oh, Maker." He sighed.

"Do _you _have a problem with _that_?" She inquired.

"A bit, yes." He said. "It's... strange. And here I always thought you hated my guts."

"I never hated you." She replied. "I just... disliked your presence. Very much."

"I'm touched."

"... 'Tis hard to explain." She sighed.

Alistair half expected William to comment on their conversation, and he looked up to tell him to stuff a sock in it. Then he remembered.

...Then he realized that... she had helped him forget. For just a minute.

"So... what now?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"What happens now?"

She sighed. "Oh, I've no plan anymore. What little plan I had was... well, this. Afterwards..."

"Having trouble with words, I take it?" He mocked.

She scowled. "Among other things."

"What do you _want_ to do?" He asked.

She thought for a moment. And a few moments after that, she came up with an answer. Still a few moments following, she weighed in her head wether or not it was the right thing to say. It likely wasn't.

"I think I want to talk a bit more." She replied.

Alistair sighed, but it was a peaceful sigh. "I can talk." He said.

"Yes, I've noticed." Morrigan said with a grin on her face.

"Oh, shut up." He chuckled.

"I've also noticed that I don't know very much about you." Morrigan said. "I've fought at your side for quite a time, and the most that I know is that you're good with your sword."

Alistair chuckled at that statement, the source of his laughter coming from either him being tired and depressed, or just the fact that he was being childish. Both, likely."At least I now have a reliable reference."

Morrigan looked at him sideways, then realized why he was laughing.

She sighed. "Men."

"We can talk about me, if you really wish." Alistair said.

"Perhaps we can take a stroll while we talk." Morrigan said. "Simply sitting still... I don't believe I can do it, right now."

"Now that you mention it," Alistair said, stretching. "I've barely stood in the past two or three hours."

They stood up and walked off of the dirt path turned mud, Badger following close behind them. After a few minutes, the dog grew bored of their conversation and spotted a Fennec darting through the bushes, which he promptly chased.

Their time alone was much appreciated.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The next day...<strong>_

"My friends, we gather here today to pay our respects to the Grey Warden that saved us all."

Alistair stood, boots sunk into the mud, several yards behind Queen Anora. She was clad in an elegant robe, fit for a queen indeed, and her golden hair was pulled back in a bun on her head.

The wife of the late King Cailan, Anora was, though very uptight and proper, a very well practiced leader of Ferelden. During her husband's rule over the nation, she was claimed to have been the one pulling the strings politically, careful not to make an enemy - or ally - that would hurt Ferelden and its people. She was highly experienced, a much more capable ruler than her husband according to many political leaders. Alistair knew that the continent was in good hands.

Dozens of soldiers, noblemen, noblewomen and friends were gathered around her. Rather, who lay before her. On a table of solid marble, intricately modeled, and surrounded by branches, cut from an enormous oak tree, lay William's corpse. He didn't look dead. Just sleeping. He looked asleep, that was it. His hands were folded across his chest, finger locked in finger. The plate armor he had worn when he died had been replaced by wool garments for his cremation. A tent was over the slab, as to not wet the wood... or William's ashes. Alistair inhaled deeply though his nose; it hurt to breathe in though his mouth, as the flesh around his lips was heavily burned. The linen bandages were soaked despite his attempts to arrive quickly. The cool sensation of the damp cloth against his charred flesh hurt, like a frostbite. He was paying the injuries no mind, however. He was told that dragon fire was very deadly, that he easily could have died if not for Leliana to return the favor of saving her, but such things were not on his mind right now.

No, his mind was on the strange Witch of the Wilds which had invaded his thoughts since the night before.

He could see her from where he stood. She was but five yards away, sitting with Badger. She generally disliked the dog, he recalled, but the mabari was paying her no mind, unlike the many times that he had gone out of his way to push his wet dog nose into her business. Once, he had dropped a dead bird in her pack as a present.

Remembering this perplexed him. She often referred to Alistair as dumber than the dog. He had always assumed that things like that she said were serious, as the cool tone she donned a majority of the time suggested. Maybe they were, at that time.

"He gave his life to destroy the blight, a sacrifice we must never forget." Anora continued. Anora's voice stopped Alistair's train of thought for the moment. "It was no accident that he was there, either. He was special, and each of us had our own life touched by him in some way."

When he regained consciousness on the top of Fort Drakon, the first person that he saw over him was Morrigan. He hadn't thought about it at the time, but she had a terrified look on her face. He was more concerned about everyone's safety than the looks on their faces. Leliana was on her knees. William was on the ground. The realization had hit him like a battering ram made of dragon bone.

That, at least, he could remember clearly.

"Some of you were his friends and companions." Anora continued. "Some of you he helped... Some of you even loved him."

Alistair looked to Morrigan, raising his eyebrows. _Where is Leliana?_

She gave a look back that held a grim shadow in her eye. _Mourning._

"It was his word that put me on the throne... and for that I am grateful beyond measure." Anora said. "The Grey wardens could not have asked for anyone finer. How does one properly honour someone like that?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Alistair could not have answered it on this day even if it were not.

"The Wardens are building a magnificent tomb at Wiesshaupt, next to that of Garahel, but I believe... more... is required." She said decisively. "Fergus Cousland, please step forward."

The sudden announcement took Alistair off guard. He looked, along with much of the crowd, towards a man covered neck to toe in red steel chainmail and plates. He had light skin and reddish-brown hair, and his facial hair was scraggly, as though he hadn't the chance to shave in weeks.

Fergus Cousland? William had spoken little of his brother, but he had with good reason. On Alistair's curiosity, William told him one night in camp what had happened to his family. Arl Rendon Howe, Loghain Mac Tir's faithful consultant and supporter, had led his troops against the Couslands at Highever Castle. There was massive bloodshed, and almost everyone that he had known, including his mother and father, his sister in-law... they all died in the attack. Specifically, he recalled finding his brother's son, his own nephew, dead on the floor. Just a little boy, killed by evil men. Alistair couldn't remember what his name was, and it bothered him. Fighting through Howe's troops, William narrowly escaped with Duncan. His brother was scouting the Korcari Wilds, and William accepted that his brother had been slaughtered at Ostagar's attack, along with the immense amount of other soldiers and mages.

"We were very pleased to discover you alive, Fergus. You were thought to have been killed at Ostagar." Anora said.

"I only wish that I had recovered from my wounds sooner." Fergus said. His eyes were locked on his younger brother's body. "May I...?"

"He is your kin. I'll not stop you from mourning." Anora said, an understanding tone in her voice.

Fergus walked a few steps towards the slab. Everyone watched as he moved his sword sheathe out of place and unlatched a second sheathe from his belt. Alistair expected it to clatter to the floor l, but the other man's grip was sure despite his appearance of weakness and sorrow. He raised the sword with both hands on separate parts of the sheathe, and wrapped William's hands around it. The way that he was lying there, he looked as though he was standing up, and using the sword as support.

"When you see him," Alistair heard Fergus whisper. "Tell him that I brought him his sword."

Fergus looked up to Queen Anora and exhaled deeply, his heavy breath lost in the pitter-pattering of rain in the mud. He nodded for her to resume.

"Fergus, the Highever lands are returned to you... in addition to the Amaranthine Arling that was Arl Howe's."

"Your majesty, if I may..." Fergus cut in. "I wish for the Arling of Amaranthine to be gifted to the Grey Wardens for support. I've no use for the land, and... it brings back memories."

Anora nodded. "I think that would be fitting." She said. "Let all know that the Arling of Amaranthine, once the land of the traitorous Arl Rendon Howe, is now granted to the Grey Wardens. There they can rebuild, and hopefully live up to this example."

"Friends, let us hope that he has moved on to a better place, and that he knows just how thankful we are for what he has done here." Anora said.

"Queen Anora?" Alistair said. She looked to him. "May I say a... a few words?" He asked.

Anora nodded.

Looking upon the crowd, he was at a loss. The only thing on his mind now were the horrible things that came after his friend's untimely death. Leliana was absolutely broken. She refused to speak to anyone, and ever since the soldiers took William's body from her arms, which she had put up quite the fight about, she hadn't shed a single tear. He supposed that was how she grieved, but he still worried for her. He was worried for everyone.

He walked towards the slab, each of his footsteps feeling like a mile, each second an eternity. When he finally reached his fallen friend, he loosened his steeled muscles. He looked more peaceful up close than he did from just a few yards away.

"I... I think I'll just say what comes to mind." Alistair spoke.

The crowd fell silent. They were quiet before, but now, they were wordless.

Dead silent.

"He was... a friend. My greatest friend, as a matter of fact. We didn't always get along on the best of terms, but William was a fantastic person. He taught me much, throughout my journey with him. Things that I wish that I had known."

Alistair swallowed a feeling of guilt, and he kept going.

"Through his words, William taught me that you can't just give up when the going gets tough. Through his battles, both physical and emotional... he taught me that a quick mind can solve most everything. Through his actions... most recently those of last night... he taught me that the outcome of destiny is not always chosen by those who await a grim stem of it. Sometimes, you just have to accept your fate."

Looking down at William once more, his eyes trailed to the sword that Fergus had given him just a minute ago. He wished that he hadn't immediately afterward.

He closed his eyes, counted to ten, and continued.

"I will never forget this man, not for the rest of my life. Even when I'm old and grey, I'm sure that I'll honor his memory. I hope that you do as well." He said. "Thank you."

Alistair stepped out from the front of William and walked towards Morrigan, head down towards the ground. When he reached her, he did not turn around.

"Now... we bid the hero of Ferelden farewell." Anora said. "He will be sorely missed."

After a few moments, raindrops smashing against the back of Alistair's head like bludgeoning, hateful fists, he heard the crackling of igniting tinder, and soon the light sound of flame filled the air. Somehow, the crackles and pops rose over the sounds of the rain.

He looked back at William. Though he was now a few yards away, he could still plainly make out the two bright white words stitched into the leather sword sheathe in blocked, capital letters.

**FOR OREN**

Deep down, in a very dark and scary part of his heart, he wished that it was himself aflame on the slab.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Meanwhile...<strong>_

Leliana sat on a wooden crate in an alley in the market district, deep in thought. Her eyes were closed. She didn't hear Alistair or Anora's speeches. She hadn't attended William's memorial in the first place, however, so there was no way that she could have. He was to be cremated on the slab that he lay on, and his ashes were to be scattered at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, just like he had asked. She couldn't bear to see him burn, for then she would have to accept that he no longer was alive.

Who was she kidding? No amount of denial of the truth would bring the love of her life back from the dead.

She hadn't let anyone see her cry since the night she carried his body out of Fort Drakon. Alistair had tried to be comforting, but every time he approached her, she just shrugged him off, smiled lightly and told him that she would be fine. She couldn't talk to him about William anymore. Alistair blamed himself for his death, and that was all that he could show. She saw it.

Leliana opened her eyes, thumbs on her temples. She had seen much in so many years, but nothing and no-one had such an impact as William had.

She knew that she couldn't wallow in misery forever. She would have to move on soon enough. She knew that, no matter what, William wouldn't want her to feel like she did.

That made her feel a bit better.

* * *

><p>They stood there, watching the flames consume William's body for the next thirty minutes. After that time, Alistair decided to sit down with Badger. The nosy mabari, soaking wet, licked Alistair in a big, sloppy dog kiss across his face.<p>

Five minutes later, Morrigan followed in Alistair's stead, sitting down and watching the smoke rise into the canvas roof of the tent.

When William's body was almost entirely burned, Leliana came to watch. As the flames continued to lick up the sides of his corpse, she walked her way silently next to Alistair and quietly sat down. At first, she was worried that the Warden would yet again try to console her, help her with her pain. He didn't. He just watched his friend burn.

A single tear streamed down her cheek. In that moment, the single tear was not a tear of sadness. Not one of guilt, nor of pain. It was a tear she shed because, in the future, she could see hope.

And it wasn't far away.

* * *

><p><strong>Bang. Better chapter 2! <strong>

**~Husky**


	3. A Dark and Terrifying Return

William awoke with a heart jolting, frightening start. As soon as he gained consciousness, his eyes shot open very quickly. His first instinct was to try and sit up, but he could barely move. The ground... didn't feel like stone. The sky was pitch black, and green mist filled the air. He blinked his eyes several times, hard.

He knew in a few moments that he wasn't on Fort Drakon, that was certain. But... The spirit of the Archdemon entered him. He was surely dead. This was some sort of... afterlife. It had to be. The fade? No. William had entered the fade before, no place that he had been looked like this. He sat up slowly. He was still in a daze, but he was sure now that he wasn't in Thedas. The aura of the area felt magical. He compared the feeling to his time in the Circle of Magi, when a Sloth Demon pulled him and his friends into the Fade. It felt similar. Demonic.

His friends... where were his friends? Leliana? Alistair... Oh, no. Alistair. Was he...

He couldn't feel his right arm. He looked to it, to see what the problem-

"Aughh!" William exclaimed. His arm was gone. He grabbed the smoldering stump that ended above where his elbow should have been with his left hand, but when he did, the area exploded with pain. He fell on his back, spine arched up as he groaned. He rolled to his side, attempting to bring himself to his feet. He pushed up, forearm to the ground, and instinctively reached down with his non-existent right arm.

His right hand hit the ground, palm down and smoldering. As soon as he felt it, he turned his head, his eyes narrowing in fear and confusion. He used his arms to bring himself to his knees, and as he did so, he felt a deep burning sensation in his chest. He feet like fire was flowing through his veins and magma was under his skin. He was sweating, and the pain was near enough to bring him back to the ground. He was writhing on the floor, burning and quivering as he tensed himself to stand again. He pushed up with his arms and got back to his knees, resting himself.

What in the hell was happening?

His chest burned, pulsing to the rhythm of his heartbeat...

His heartbeat. He was alive. Somehow, he must have been sent to this place instead of dying. Everyone else must have been very worried, that much was certain. But if this wasn't some sort of after-life nightmare, then... what was it?

...And how would he get out of this place?

He brought himself to his feet, clutching his chest with his right hand, and looked around. With his sight a bit clearer, he could see the things around him. The ground was coated in soot and dust, and chunks of stone... no, entire sections of destroyed structures surrounded him. He turned behind him to observe that an enormous, familiar temple like structure was shared around him. The carvings on the stone were distinct, but he couldn't recognise them. Had he been here before?

Clicking emanated from his right. He turned on queue, looking for the source of the noise. He had an itch under his thick beard, but he did not scratch it, concentrating instead on the location of the noise.

Hissing shot out from behind him. He looked back immediately, and laid his eyes on a grotesque looking arachnid, beige in color and flesh rotted. Several more perched over the edges of the rubble, and soon they surrounded his entire right side. The spiders were enormous, larger even than the cave spiders found in the Deep Roads. They were tall, at least as high as his chest, and they bore deadly looking pincers upon their mouths that looked as if they could chop a Quanari clean in two.

"Crap." William mumbled.

He reached down to his belt to draw his sword, but his hand grabbed nothing, reaching towards thin air. William realized then that, along with his armor, his weapon and shield were gone. He had no choice but to flee. But where to?

Any place had to be better than there. He began to run away, but the pain in his chest stopped him. He could feel it burning deeply, and it felt as though his entire chest was vibrating along with the pain. The spiders were gaining on him. To hell with the pain, he had to keep moving.

Out of sheer will, he ran as fast as he could through the area, going around the rubble and jumping over the bits that got in his way. Every time he landed, he could feel his legs getting weaker. Surely there was some way out of this place. There had to be.

A bright light shone out from upwards and to the right, blinding him. He covered his eyes from the white flash, but after just a moment, he could gaze upon it without having to shield his vision of the light's luminosity. The light was a very peculiar shape, not circular as he had thought. It was narrow and tall. That had to be a way out, otherwise...

William made his mind in a fraction of a second, choosing to pursue the light instead of running through the shadows. He would have to climb up to it, a task that he wasn't sure that he would be able to preform. His chest burned so intensely, he believed that he could have passed out and died upon the ground he stood in mere seconds. He steeled himself and ran towards the pile of rubble, jumping up and putting his feet and hands to work as he pulled himself towards the top of the ruins. The spiders would surely catch him, now. What in the world had he been thinking? Spiders climbed much better then humans did. He was dead.

As he got closer, he realized that the light made out the form of a woman. The woman's face was unrecognizable in the piercing brightness, and she donned a set of robes that he also could not make out.

He was almost there. He reached up to grab a new stone, but his hand slipped from the handhold. He grabbed onto it once more, but before he could pull himself up, one of the many spiders latched onto his leg with its pincers. The jagged, sideways maw stabbed into the flesh of his calf, and he let out a stifled shout of pain.

The bright woman blasted light outwards even brighter than before, soaking everything in sight with an almost holy aura. The spider unlatched from his leg, and the ones who approached were blinded, becoming dizzy and falling down the pile. His leg bled through the woolen garments, but he had to ignore the pain. He wouldn't get a third chance.

He was getting closer to her. She reached her hand out towards him, and he reached towards her. Just a few inches, and he would reach her.

He lunged his arm forward, nearly hyper-extending it, and he touched his fingertips to the woman's hand.

Suddenly, he felt himself rush forward, an unknown force pushing him at a great speed. This only continued for a moment, for when he stopped, a biting cold and freezing wind blew against his face. Green light poured out from behind him, and snow covered everything in sight. His brain pulsed inside of his skull, and his chest burned even more intensely, now. He was in such pain that he dropped down to his knees, burying his hands in the ice. He could not keep himself up, and, several seconds later, he collapsed fully into the snowy ground.

Before he lost consciousness, William saw out of the corner of his eye two soldiers amidst the rubble and ruins rushing toward him. Nothing was particularly special about them, but they looked as though the were very panicked.

A deep green light reflected off of the snow from above.

* * *

><p>When he awoke, William felt his shoulder being shaken. He wasn't lying in a bed. His knees ached, but the burning feeling in his chest was gone, as was the pulsing headache. A new pain replaced them, a sharp feeling across the palm of his left hand. It felt as though a knife had cut across it.<p>

"Wake up." A voice said. William's eyes fluttered open. He was drowsy, but the pain quickly woke him. He blinked hard several times, all the while being shaken by a man in armor.

"Try to stay awake this time, yeah?" The man said. He was a soldier, but he didn't look very decorated. Sergeant, maybe. "Lady Pentaghast will want to speak to you."

"Where...?" He mumbled. The soldier didn't hear him.

"Keep an eye on him. Make sure that he does not go anywhere." The soldier said to someone standing behind him. He walked up a short flight of stairs to a door with a soldier on either side. He opened it, exited the room, and shut the door firmly behind him.

William turned his head, moving his hands and trying to stand. Several guards stood around him. The rattle of a chain came from under him, and his wrists tightened. He looked down. Shackles were wrapped around them, and his legs were bolted to the ground at the ankles.

"What-" William began.

A sharp pain rang through his hand, and an electric crackle echoed through the room. It was only painful for a moment, but when he looked down to see what had happened, he was greeted by a glowing, lime green light. An arc of energy crackled over what appeared to be a scar on his hand. He clenched his teeth and stared at it.

"...what the hell?" He said.

The door opened, and into the room walked a white skinned woman with short black hair. On her face, from just below her eye to the edge of her top lip, was a deep scar. She had on her face what appeared to be a permanent scowl, and she looked as though she had just finished killing something. Her hand was on her sword, and she was clad in a deep purple set of leather armor, a red sash around her waist and a jet black surcoat draped over her chest. The surcoat was adorned with a white eye, and surrounding it was what appeared to be a white blast of light, as though the eye was blocking out the rays of a Sun. William had seen the crest before in a book, and recognised it to be that of the Seekers of Truth.

Her commanding presence gave William the notion that this woman had to be Lady Pentaghast.

She stepped around him, going behind his back.

"Where am I?" William asked. "What am I-"

"Quiet!" The woman hissed. He promptly closed his mouth, his questions unanswered. She grabbed his shoulder with an iron grip, and pulled her face close to his ear.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now." She said. Her Orlesian accent rang through her voice thickly.

"Why _should_ you?" William asked, outraged. "What have I done to-"

She stepped back in front of him, grabbing his face with her gloved hand. "The Conclave has been destroyed." Lady Pentaghast growled. "_Everyone _who attended is _dead_. Except for you."

"Th... Cncve?" William mumbled through his pressed lips. She let go, taking a step away from him. "What is the Conclave? And... how many are dead?"

"Don't play dumb!" She said.

Steps echoed from down the hallway, which William could hear only because the door was cracked open ever so slightly.

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about!" William responded.

"Then explain _this_!" She said, grabbing his left wrist and raising it to eye level. It crackled and burned bright green.

"I can't." William responded.

"What do you mean you _can't_?" She shot back.

The door opened slightly, and into the room walked a hooded woman. Her robes were a grey-purple color with dark stitching. She walked in quickly, looking to the ground while she walked as she reached up to her hood and pulled it to the back of her head. Blood red hair spilled out over her eyes, and when she raised her head, William's heartbeat almost skipped.

"Cassandra the-" She began, but she caught sight of William and froze in place, her perfect white and crystal-blue eyes wide like dinner plates.

William looked at Leliana.

Leliana looked at him.


	4. The Powerful Mixture of Fear and Rage

Leliana stood in the jail room, body and face frozen in fear. She stared into William's eyes, and he stared back. Impossible. Improbable. She had seen him die. She had seen his corpse _burn_. He had been dead for... this had to have been some sort of nightmare. She wanted to pinch herself, so that she would wake up, but she couldn't move to do so. That was when she realized that it was no dream.

William wanted to speak, to say anything, but all that he could do was stare at the face of his beloved. Her blue eyes, red hair and fair Orlesian skin shone like a beacon in the darkness of the room.

He was dead. There wasn't a snowball's chance in a flame that the man before her was actually William. She finally gathered the will to move, and the first thing that she did was act.

"Get back, Cassandra!" She said. Stepping forward quickly, she reached down to her side and pulled a dagger from a sheathe hidden at her side. The slight look of happiness that washed over William's face was quickly replaced by surprise. Lady Pentaghast backed up, confused, but then she looked to the knife.

Leliana grabbed William by his thick bronze hair and pulled back, pushing the blade to his throat.

"What are you?!" She demanded.

"Leliana, what... why are you-" William sputtered.

"Answer me, beast!" She hissed.

"Leliana!" Lady Pentaghast shouted. "Let him go! This is the man who walked from the Breach!"

"Leliana, for the Maker's sake, it's me, dammit!" William yelled, gritting his teeth together. "It's William!"

"That's enough!" Lady Pentaghast said.

"William is _dead_!" She shouted, pushing the knife against his throat harder.

"...Dead..?" William asked, terrified. "That isn't possible... I-"

"_He_ was killed in the Fifth Blight. You, on the other hand, are alive." She said. "How did you do it? Did you take his form? Are you a demon of some kind? Rage? _Envy_?"

His heartbeat ran extremely fast. The sharp steel blade had broken the skin of his neck, and a tiny droplet of blood ran down from where the blade cut through. He felt it trickle down as he tried to find something to respond with. "I-"

"That's enough, I said!" Lady Pentaghast shouted. Leliana pulled the knife away from William's neck and backed up. His chest was burning again, not as painful as last time, but he could feel it spreading as if something was inside of him.

"That is no man!" Leliana said. "'Tis a demon!"

Lady Pentaghast eyed William carefully. "If he were any sort of demon, then why has he not displayed his true form?" She asked. "Why go to such complex lengths in order to infiltrate us, and with one? A demon so weak would have crossed through the fade through one of the smaller rifts, not the Breach itself."

Leliana stared William down in disbelief and rage. How could it know his shape? His voice? His words?

"What are you?" She whispered.

There was a silence, perhaps seven or eight seconds in which no sound came from any of the three. Lady Pentaghast was confused, unsure of Leliana's grudge with the man. She knew deep down that he was no demon. She knew what one possessed by a demon acted with. Greed. Hunger. Not fear. Never once had she encountered a fearful demon.

"I'm alive." William responded.

Leliana backed up several steps into the door. She reached for the knob, pulled it open, and ran through, slamming it closed. Lady Pentaghast took a step towards the door, as though to follow her, but hesitated, and before long she decided to let Leliana go.

William's heart raced. He had been... Dead?

She looked to him. William was breathing heavily. He looked to her, and bore a look of terror.

He swallowed, his deep breaths escaping after as though his lungs had never worked before. He looked down to the glowing, crackling scar on his hand, then looked again to Lady Pentaghast's eyes.

"How long ago was the end of the Fifth Blight?" He asked.

Her mouth refused to shut entirely closed. "At least a decade." She replied.

He stayed silent, shutting his eyes lightly as he took the information in. After a pause of several more seconds, he opened his eyes and looked up.

"Show me this Breach." He said.


	5. A Tear In Thedas' Sky

"There's no record of such a thing?" William asked as Lady Pentaghast pushed him down the hall.

William was distraught, to say the least. He was confused, shocked, and terrified. The love of his life had called him a demon as she held a knife to his throat. She said it with such anger and pain that he nearly believed it himself. There was no possible way that he had died. He couldn't believe it.

"No. The dead simply do not return to life." She answered. "I've heard tales of those who have tried to fight the laws of nature and attempt to bring back loved ones anyway. Be it blood magic, dark ritual... None have succeeded."

"What about... I don't know... magic that alters time?" William asked. "I've never heard of such a power, but maybe...?"

"Not that I know of. The threat of magic used to alter the fabric of time is..." She said, trailing off. "It would be very, very dangerous."

He felt the burning in his chest mellow, but still it raged. He felt pain everywhere, arguing through his every inch of muscle and flesh. Never had he felt so weak or submissive, not even while under the evil spells of Uldred and his sloth demons. The pain was the least of his worries, however.

"Then... how could it be possible?" William asked. "If I died ten years ago... how am I standing here now?"

"Many strange things have happened since the Conclave." She said. "Perhaps we can answer that question once we find out more."

"And how do you expect to do that?" William asked harshly.

She scowled at his tone. "By attacking the source of all of this." She answered.

Pushing him down the hall, she walked faster towards the large double doors at the end of the corridor. She let go of his bound hands and walked ahead of him, reaching the doors and pushing them open. Light flooded into the dark, torch lit corridor, and the bright white of snow blinded William. He squinted as the stepped outside into the freezing air, the woolen garments he wore barely insulating him.

"There." Lady Pentaghast said. She pointed up into the sky. William followed her finger's path with his eyes. In an instant, he knew that he would not have had to to locate what she was referring to.

He locked his eyes on a massive, lime green rift in the sky. Clouds swirled around the portal like a sea storm, lightning crackling within it. Every time the Breach emitted a blast of electricity, a powerful and slightly painful arc shot over his hand. He looked down to his left hand. It glowed earnestly, a demonic beacon in the darkness of his shadow.

"We call it the Breach." Lady Pentaghast said. "It is a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour."

"A hole in the veil?" William muttered. "By the Maker..."

"_Holes_." She corrected. "It is not the only such rift. Just the largest."

"... So... there are more than one of these portals?" William asked.

"Yes." She replied. "All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave."

William looked down at the scar, then back to her. "No explosion I've ever been nearby has done that. Done... this." He said, holding up his left hand, palm forward.

"This one did." Lady Pentaghast replied. "Unless we act... the Breach may grow until it swallows the world."

"What-" William began, but he was cut off by the blinding and explosive flash of an enormous arc of lightning echoing through the Breach's center. As the lightning flashed, the sharp pain in his hand furiously lashed out, sending painful shockwaves up his arm and across his chest. He yelled out in pain and clutched his tender hand, dropping to his knees. As he breathed through his clenched teeth, he could feel the force of the blast hitting what felt to be his very soul.

Something inside of him hit back, and the pain in his chest exploded. He lurched forward, almost falling face down into the snow.

"What sorcery is this?" William asked, sweat dripping down his forehead. "Some sort of... demonic magic?"

"Even our most experienced mages have no record of such a mark." She said, kneeling. "But we do know two things. One, with every jolt or shock of the Breach, both it and your mark expand."

"Alright." William said, nodding painfully. "And the second thing?"

"... It is killing you." Lady Pentaghast spoke. "The more it spreads, the more damage to you it will do. Eventually, if we do not close the Breach, you will die."

William took this in for a moment. "What in the hell have I gotten myself into?" He mumbled.

"It could be the key to stopping this, however." She said.

"And how do you suppose that is?" William asked, bracing his legs to stand. He came off as slightly agressive, be it from the pain, the soreness, or perhaps both combined.

She helped him up, reluctantly if so. Again, that scowl raised on her face. "It could be the key to closing the Breach. And if the Breach were to be closed-"

"Then I wouldn't die?" He asked.

"...In theory. If that is possible is something we shall discover shortly." She said. "It is our only chance, however. And yours."

"Then I'll do it." He said. "Whatever it takes."

"Good. I was hoping I would not have to threaten you." She said. William eyed her carefully. Although he was the suspected offender and prisoner, he felt as though he should keep an eye on the woman. She gave off an aura of unpredictability, at least for him. "Come."

"Where are you taking me?"

She was getting tired of answering his questions. "We must test your mark on something smaller than the Breach."

"Then by all means," he said, shuddering. "Lead the way."

Lady Pentaghast grabbed him by the back and pushed him forward with herself, walking down a path that led away from the building and towards a small encampment. William noticed the pained and angry faces of many as he watched them, and they spared no time to look back to him with the same expressions, murmuring in hushed whispers what were sure to be insults and curses.

"They have decided your guilt." Lady Pentaghast said. "They _need_ it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers."

"What is... _was_ the Conclave?" William asked.

"It was a chance for peace between the Mages and Templars. Divine Justinia brought their leaders together, and now she and they are dead."

A rock, about the size of a clenched fist, sailed through the air and hit William in the face. He wasn't expecting the sudden projectile, and he winced as the stone hit his cheekbone.

Lady Pentaghast whipped around, directly towards the source of the thrown rock. She put her hand near the hilt of her sword, and several people backed up. William could not tell if they backed up in fear, or... respect.

Scowling towards them, she pushed William forward a bit more, eager to leave before the people decided to have the prisoner's head on a pike. "We lash out, like the sky." Cassandra continued. "But we must think beyond ourselves, as she did. Until the Breach is sealed."

William looked back towards the camp, but the foliage and trees nearly blocked it out. The ground beneath him changed from dirt to the stone brick surface of a sturdy bridge.

"And after that?" William asked. "What happens to me, then?"

She reached down to her belt and drew a small dagger, razor sharp and glimmering like steel. In one quick swipe, she ripped upwards against the thick cloth and rope bonds and severed them. This came as a surprise to William.

"Assuming that it works - that you can close the Breach - and you aren't thrown to Mabari, I would say that you could go back to whatever life that you led before this."

"So you trust me, then?" William asked hopefully.

"No." She responded. "I don't believe that anyone can trust you. Not until you prove that you weren't the cause of this."

Walking past him, she pushed him forward, and he began to follow. They walked upon a stone bridge towards a large, wooden gate. She raised her hand up, signaling the soldiers standing guard in front of it.

"Open the gate!" She called. "We are heading into the valley!"

The guards nodded, and they pushed the door open. Several scared refugees came through the opening, likely seeking shelter. As they walked past, William heard one of them, a man, speak.

"Maker," He said. "It's the end of the world!"

They walked through the gate and out onto the dirt path on the other side. Down the road, William could see merchant carts and other lumber lit aflame. Perhaps bandits had gotten to them amidst the chaos.

As they paced quickly down the path, William took time to absorb the full effect of his surroundings. He recognized the nearby mountains to be the Frostbacks, the legendary mountain range that separated Ferelden and Orlais. The bold range's beauty was torn by the display that stood miles above it. The Breach sat like an ugly scar on the face of the sky, and he realized that the explosions that could be heard in the distance were the product of falling balls of flame that poured from it.

"There will be a trial. That much I can promise." Lady Pentaghast said, breaking his concentration.

"So you still think that I did this?" William asked, dumbfounded. "To _myself_?"

"_Something _obviously went wrong, if it was your fault." She said, turning to him and pointing. "You are the only suspect."

Before he could say anything in response, another enormous shock exploded through him. His legs buckled, and he nearly smacked his head on the ground.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"Not at all." He replied. He tried to stand, but he was weak. Lady Pentaghast put his arm over her shoulder and pulled him upwards. With her help, he got to his feet, clenching his hand in a fist over his chest.

"The pulses from the Breach are becoming faster now." She said. "We should hurry. The more that the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, and the more demons we face."

"I have to ask," William said. "Where did you find me?"

"It was not I who found you, but a pair of our soldiers. They say that you... stepped out of a rift. We were also told that there was a woman in the rift behind you, but no one knows who she was."

"I remember." He said. "She... reached out to me. Touched my hand. Then..."

"Then?" Lady Pentaghast asked.

"I don't know. The next thing I knew, I was face down in the snow, then everything went black."

"The rift you stepped from was practically under the Breach. Everything that far into the valley has been laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes."

"What?" He asked, mortified.

"You'll see soon enough." She replied.

They walked towards a bridge of mortar and brick. More balls of green flame shot down towards them, but none landed quite close enough to hit anything. As they crossed the bridge, however, soldiers were frantic, attempting to move everything from it as soon as possible.

A bright green light appeared out of William's eye, and he slowly looked to see what it was. His eyes widened.

"Watch out!" He shouted.

Before Lady Pentaghast could react, an enormous fireball smashed into the strong brick and mortar, causing the entire thing to collapse. She fell free of William, and the two crashed separately onto the several foot thick layer of ice that covered the lake below. Brick flew everywhere, and boxes that had but been recovered were smashed. Pentaghast stood quickly, just in time for an enormous blast of green light to hit the ridge a few dozen yards ahead and smash into the lake with them.

William groaned, and his eyes fluttered open. A Shade Demon rose from where the light hit, and it roared loudly.

Lady Pentaghast drew her sword from its sheathe. "Stay behind me!" She said, charging. Unknown to her, another light sailed down from the sky and slammed into the ice in front of William. Startled, he sat up and backed himself up across the ice. Another Shade appeared where that light struck, and it looked eager to tear him apart.

Lady Pentaghast was distracted. He had nothing to defend himself. He looked around for something, anything to use as a weapon. Out of the rubble, a sword hilt shone in the light. Perfect. He grabbed the sword, drew it from the stone and lunged, aiming to kill the demon.

William closed his eyes in a squint of terrible pain and silently hoped that the blade would find its target.


	6. The Work of Something Greater

The dull blade in William's hands sunk hilt deep into the Shade's chest, metal tearing through animated cloth and scrap like wet clay. He gained a foothold on a tough patch of thin ice and grass and lifted upwards, ripping the sword out of the demon through the top of its head. He drew back, ready to spin and strike with maximum momentum, and flourished with a strike that he aimed to kill with. The Shade lunged back, its lack of bones allowing it to bend around the strike, and it pounced back with horrible fingers extended.

He parried the Shade's counter attack and slashed across its chest. In his experience of fighting demons, he knew that they were incredibly difficult to kill if you didn't know their easily exploitable weaknesses. Most demons could be killed fairly easily if you cut them to ribbons, but others had to be weakened first.

Lady Pentaghast was handling the other Shade across the frozen lake, heavily slashing and blocking its every strike with master timing. She certainly wasn't breaking a sweat, nor was she close.

William, although more than a match for the lesser demon, was having trouble keeping up with his Shade opponent's frantic and fury-filled hits with only a shortsword. Block, slash, dodge, block, parry, slash. He would have to change his tactic soon, or else-

A sudden explosion shook the sky, and William's hand exploded with pain, causing him to falter badly. The demon lunged towards him while he stumbled, and he felt a powerful blow hit his chest. He cried out in pain, but he didn't fall. Looking down, he saw what was one of the scariest things he had possibly _ever_ seen.

The Shade's arm was buried shoulder deep in his chest, the terrifying creature hissing in triumph. William was in immense pain. It lifted him off of the ground with one arm, and it threw his body like a rag doll towards Lady Pentaghast.

The pain was almost enough to render him unconscious. I'm_ going to die._ he thought. _I'm going to die, and Leliana hates me._

That thought could have killed him faster.

"Shit!" Lady Pentaghast exclaimed when she saw his body sliding towards her. Blood was streaking across the ice along with him, and when he stopped sliding, it began to pool.

His chest exploded with a newfound pain and burning sensation. He tensed himself up and tried not to scream as he felt what felt as if all of the life was pouring out of him. His head pulsed with a roaring that sounded to him quite similar to the piercing noise of a Dragon's cry. His vision went fully white for a moment, but then returned clear. Clearer than before.

A shocking jolt caused him to find the strength to stand. He lifted himself up, grabbing the sword as he shaking stood. His Shade was charging towards him, a fierce look in its eye. William felt the hole through his chest burn madly as he stood. It was probably the most intense pain that he had ever experienced, but there was one thing still keeping him alive, or so he thought.

_I can't die and have her hate me. I won't._

Now only three feet away, the Shade lunged towards him. He reacted immediately. With a surprisingly strong thrust, he lunged as well, and the two met at the same time.

William hit. The Shade did not.

Pushing the Shade into a tackle as he lifted it up with his sword, William used what strength he had in his lift, and he used the blade as an axe, lifting it and the entire demon over his head, slamming the demon's head down onto the ice and simultaneously ripping its torso and head in half. It lay there for a moment, but it soon began to burn, to disintegrate as demons did, and it was no more than a pile of ash in mere seconds.

Lady Pentaghast had been watching him since he had gotten up from his fatal wound. She struck down her demon with a simple decapitation, and watched as William effectively suplexed the Shade with his blade.

William, shaking furiously, dropped his sword to the ice and raised his hands to the shredded fabric of his woolen garments. He parted the torn bits.

There was skin underneath.

"By the Maker..." Lady Pentaghast uttered. She had seen him. He had a bleeding hole through his chest the size of a fist, punched right through the center of his ribcage. The blood stains were still on the ice, still on his clothes - yet there was no wound anymore.

"... What the hell is happening to me...?" He asked, terrified.

She did not know the answer.

He shook his head, clutching both sides with his open hands. A faint noise echoed through his thoughts. It was that dragon-like roar, causing his entire head to shake to a noise he did not hear. His chest continued to pound violently.

Weak, he dropped to his hands and knees, nearly fully collapsing onto the ice. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his sword's hilt. He reached for the blade, but before he could wrap his hand around the hilt, the point of Lady Pentaghast's was at his throat.

"Leave it." She said sternly.

William suspended his hand just inches from the hilt. "How do you expect me to defend myself?"

"You say defend yourself. I say backstab us." Pentaghast said. "You are no mere man. You could be possessed, for all that I know."

"If you believe that, then run me through." William said shakily, still trying to catch his breath. "But if you do, then your problems, these rifts and the Breach, will never close. I'm your only chance."

Lady Pentaghast scowled. She was conflicted. The entire situation was a nightmare beyond her control, and the only person who had a hand, literally, in stopping it was... she wasn't even sure that he was a person.

"You have to trust me, Lady Pentaghast." He said. "I have not the slightest damn clue as to what is happening to me, to the sky, to... anything. But mark my words, I plan to find out _both_."

A crackling boom shot through the air as if on cue.

The scowl on her face turned into a look of submission. He was right. He _was_ their only chance. She couldn't in good conscience arm him, but they would be better off if he had a sword. His fighting skills were unpredictable. Powerful and quick, but at the same time decisive and tame. He didn't use his blade as a weapon, but as a tool.

She sighed. "You're right. I cannot protect you." She said. "You have to be able to protect yourself, or you'll..."

She trailed off. A fatal wound, a hole directly in his chest, had healed itself almost instantly.

...Could he even die?

"... Come." She said, beckoning him. She was trying to hide the fear in her own eyes. "Grab your sword, we need to get moving!"

William was glad that she had allowed him the weapon, which he proceeded to pick up and wield, but... what the hell had just happened? Some sort of... miracle?

No. No, what had just happened was not the work of miracles. The Maker did not save his children, that much was already made clear to William long ago. It wasn't healing magic either, he would have felt something more. The pain in his chest when it had happened was the same one that he had been having since the Mark had appeared on his hand.

... Could it have been the demonic scar's power? So powerful that it could replace flesh, blood and bone?

Lady Pentaghast quickened her step, and William tightened the grip around his sword. His hands were freezing. She was not projecting her emotions because she believed that her conflicting thoughts would cause problems.

However, thoughts were racing through her mind like wild creatures. What manner of power was that? Perhaps divine intervention, perhaps demonic restoration... perhaps a little bit of both... regardless, she was thoroughly shaken, and trying not to show it. Such a power was unimaginable.

Maybe Leliana was right.

* * *

><p><strong>Important Information!<strong>

**If you read Chapters One and Two before the date of Monday, January 5th and have not gone back to re-read them (as advised by the author's note late last week), I recommend going back and reading both, as there are_ major _changes which will impact the story as a whole greatly.**

**I appreciate all of the support so far. Let's see how far we can take this thing!**

**~Husky**


	7. The Key to Salvation

**Alright, I'm pretty angry, so I'm just going to explain some stuff.**

**I should be allowed to take as much time as I need per chapter, and I don't need much, so I would rather put my heart into it than spit it out every two days.**

**Second, I haven't updated because I've been dealing with a family loss. I had an argument with an asshole who thought it was no reason to, and I quote, "Stop updating just cause some guy died."**

**To you, sir, and you know who you are, please take a long walk off of a short dock. Heartless prick.**

**I'll quit being a grump, and let you get to your reading. Have fun!**

* * *

><p>Following Lady Pentaghast, William realized just how close that he could have come to dead. Supposedly again, a prospect that he still failed to grasp. He didn't fear death, but after staring it in the face, he realized just how terrifying it was. He could only imagine what sort of thoughts were running through her head. Not ones that favored his innocence, surely. He wanted to move on, but he couldn't.<p>

_What_ was happening to him?

"Where are all of your soldiers?" William asked. The question was not without reason; though to take his mind from the recent happening, he had noticed no living garrison of troops nearby. The valley was barren, an area so quiet that it got under William's skin.

"At the forward camp, all fighting." Lady Pentaghast replied. "We are on our own, for now."

She said it with a certain tone in her voice. She clearly was uncomfortable, considering that the only other human - or anything remotely close - had just healed tissue before her eyes. This made him even more dangerous than he already was. William could not blame her, though she was barely scratching the surface. She obviously did not know exactly who he was. She had only heard his first name, spat out by Leliana, and it was not enough. He was glad for this; If she were told, she would not believe it in the slightest, and William had no proof that he was who he would claim himself to be.

The corpse of a Templar, still decked out in polished gear, lay in the snow ahead. He noticed that an enormous, bloody hole lay in the base of his spine, and, upon further inspection, William saw that the hole pieced all of the way through to the ground. Dark red snow lay under him, partially melted from the blood's warmth.

"Poor bastard." William said.

"This could have been you." Lady Pentaghast said. "I've no clue how you survived that... _fatal_ injury... but I don't believe you to be responsible for your survival. Even the strongest healing magic could not have mended a wound like that."

"Then what could it have been?" He asked. "Why me, and not him?"

"Perhaps something else has a hand in this." She said.

"... what something?" He mumbled.

After a few seconds of silence, Lady Pentaghast took a step towards the corpse.

"We might as well search him for supplies." She said. "I am sure that he would have wanted someone to find them."

William nodded and keeled to the corpse. The shining steel armor glistened in the mellow light of the Breach. He had done this many times before, so he didn't hesitate to start his search. Opening the Templar's satchel, he expected there to be perhaps a few herbal remedies, as standard to most soldiers. He instead was greeted by a small chunk of red stone. Curious, he pulled it into the light.

As soon as he touched it, he had felt something click in his head, like he had realized something, but he hadn't. When he laid his eyes on it, his heart thumped heavily and the blood rushed to his head. His chest burned even greater.

"Is this... Lyrium?" He asked.

"I would advise that you put that down." Lady Pentaghast said. "That is Red Lyrium. It is incredibly addictive, and will drive you insane if you use too much."

That was as much convincing as he needed. He placed it back in the satchel and closed it. Instinctively, he wiped his hand off on his garments, even though the mineral left no residue.

Clearing his throat, he continued his search.

"What makes it red?" He asked.

"The Darkspawn taint." She replied. "I don't know if you have any experience with the taint, but it can be very deadly."

William nodded, not wanting to show any of his cards before he had to. "I've had... a bit of experience with it. Not fun." He mumbled. "But why would a templar have such a dangerous piece of Lyrium?"

She didn't answer him, but he knew that she had heard him.

He moved his hands to under the satchel, where the potion belt lay. On it were several healing potions. He had no place to store them, so he simply took the entire belt and attached it. It fit perfectly. He also removed the Templar's gloves and pulled them on. They were lined with wool, perfect for warming his freezing hands. He almost forgot to take his shield as well, but seeing it reminded him. He hefted the hip-high shield level to himself. Even just holding it, he knew that it was strong.

"Alright, lets go." William said.

"Perhaps you should take his helmet as well." Lady Pentaghast said. "Maker knows he won't need it anymore."

He looked towards the helmet. It looked intimidating, and powerful. He looked towards the eye holes. They were practically slits.

"No thanks. I don't do helmets." William said. With that, he picked up his pace, rushing towards the incline ahead.

After a moment of confusion, Lady Pentaghast followed.

_Why in the Maker's name would he refuse a helmet in this chaos?_

* * *

><p>In a few short moments, the body of the Templar was out of view, and into view came more corpses - a Templar here, a soldier there - and the familiar movements of a Shade, hunched over a lifeless corpse, fiendishly ripping out the soldier's insides. Several more Shades slid across the icy lake, hovering just above the surface. Lady Pentaghast slowed her step, taking a quick look at the field of ice before making an attack plan.<p>

William had seen terrible things like this many times before, and the mutilation of corpses was, unfortunately, to be expected in a war with demons. Still, the brutality of the overkill wrenched his gut.

He looked around the area as well, looking for anything that would give them an advantage. They didn't exactly have numbers. He noticed that at the end of the ridge there was a short drop, maybe three or four feet. It would be the perfect spot to initiate a flanking attack; it was the demons' blind spot.

"We should get the drop on them." She said, drawing her sword and aiming the tip of it in the direction of the demons, a clear path of steel leading sharply towards their common enemy. "If we flank them, we may gain the advantage."

"I was going to say the same." William said in approval. She was a decent strategist. Good to know.

The jogged towards the drop, the snow muddling their footsteps. William kept an eye on the Shades while he ran, making sure that they did not take notice. Fortunately, they were both fast runners, and wore little gear. When one of the Shades finally turned to face them, they were no longer there.

They had no chance of using stealth through the entire encounter - they would likely only be able to kill one or two demons before they were spotted - but it would be enough to tip the scales if they weren't seen. Lady Pentaghast dropped off of the edge of the ridge, and William followed. He had his eye on the one who was tearing up the unlucky soldier.

A bright flash, green fire, shot down in front of William's feet, melting the snow. He looked up towards the source of the shot, startled. Following with his eyes a faint trail of smoke, he located the attacker up on the hill ahead.

It appeared to be a green wisp, a wraith of some kind. Regardless, it saw them, and it was firing projectiles their way.

More fireballs hit the snow, and the Shades took notice, turning almost immediately. The Shade that was tearing up the corpse stopped suddenly, whipping around and roaring madly as it extended its bloody claws in the air.

"So much for flanking them!" William said. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword and charged, dashing out of the way of an incoming fireball.

Lady Pentaghast followed, stopping to smash her shield against a Shade. It fell into the strike, and crumpled down. She grabbed her sword with both hands and drove the blade through the Shade's head, killing it.

William went directly for the Shade with the bloody claws, feigning a shield hit and going for a low strike. The demon fell, but before he could finish it off, a fireball hit the sword out of his hand. He expected it to burn, but instead of lighting his glove on fire it made his hand underneath it numb. The third shade suddenly lurched forward towards him, and he raised his shield just in time to catch the strike against his shield. The Shade smashed against his shield with enough force to knock him back. Scrambling to get to his feet, he grabbed his fallen sword and held the shield up again with impeccable timing, once again catching the Shade in the middle of its strike. He found a foothold in the ice and pushed against the demon's force, sending it backwards. He ran forward and slid on the ice, sword pointed outwards at the Shade's chest, and he drove the steel through. It wailed before he ripped it out and flourished in a spin, beheading the beast.

Two fireballs shot toward William, and Lady Pentaghast jumped in front of him, shield raised. The shots impacted her shield and she landed on the ground in a roll.

"Deal with the Wraiths!" She shouted, facing the bloody clawed Shade. "I can handle this!"

William nodded and turned back towards the Wraith. There were more than one, now, and they were aiming at him. He ran with his shield up towards them, and he blocked several fireballs as he charged.

An enormous explosion smashed into the ice a few meters to his left. He covered his left side and looked towards the impact. The ice cracked, and from the area rose a Wraith. He quickly darted his eyes up to the Breach and back towards the Wraith in under half a second.

"They're falling from the Breach!" William shouted. Several more demons, both Shades and Wraiths alike, were borne from the melted ice and glowing flame of every blast. With every meteor that hit nearby, the mark on his hand belted loose a violent pulse, causing his whole arm to shake from the unexpected vibrations. The pain was almost a commonality to him now, but still he winced.

A Wraith got a bit too close, and he ripped his sword through its form twice, cutting the wisp like heated butter. He looked back to Lady Pentaghast, and saw that she was, indeed, handling the situation. The body of the bloody clawed Shade lay dead at her feet, disintegrating, as she slashed precisely and quickly through the body of another. She was in her element, and the demons were not welcome.

William reached the top of the hill and closed in on the trio of wraiths that stood there. fireballs were being sent this way, but they impacted differently against his shield this time, like actual fire. He felt the heat of them from the other side of his shield.

He rolled, dodging yet another fireball, and came up in a slash, decimating one of the Wraiths and destroying it instantly. The other two shot large amounts of fire towards him, which he blocked with some difficulty. His forearm burned from the heat of the metal, but still he held his own.

He dashed forward when he saw a chance and slashed four times at the closest demon, causing it to explode into dust as the others did. He span, closing his distance on the final wisp, and brought his sword down in a powerful slash that could be heard traveling through the air. The Wraith dissipated, and now all that remained were a pair of Shades, being handled by Lady Pentaghast.

Watching her fight was a very interesting sight. She fought like no one he had ever seen, though perhaps this was due to her training as a Seeker. It was strong, yet quick, very much like his own fighting style, but there was a certain bit of finesse that carried with it that he simply didn't have. She carved her blade through the torso of the first demon, then span around to impale the second. Her motions flowed like water, a mellifluous fashion.

Both Shades hit the ground and disintegrated, and Lady Pentaghast sheathed her sword, her chest falling as she let go of a breath held during battle. William jogged Down the hill and met her halfway as she continued her advance.

"Nicely done." William said.

"We aren't out of the woods yet." She said. "We're getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting."

She was right. Demons roared, and the familiar sound of a crossbow rang unnaturally loud through the air.

"Who is fighting?" William inquired.

"You will see soon enough." She replied.

They jogged up the hill to a staircase that was laid in the side of the next incline. As he climbed each step, the fighting grew louder, and he could hear the sounds of spells being cast side by side the crossbow. They reached the top, and the first thing that drew his gaze was the bright green rift floating at least a dozen feet above him.

It was similar to the Breach, a tear in the air that glowed a furious green, electricity racing over it. The center was a crystalline core, each chunk of demonic gem sliding and locking around each other. It was... enticing.

"We have to help them." Lady Pentaghast said, pushing him forward. He moved his eyes to the demons ahead.

A ginger-haired Dwarf with an enormous crossbow was emptying bolt after bolt into Shades and Wraiths, fighting at the side of a bald Elven mage with a rather peculiar stave. The Dwarf wore a dark coat with the top opened, showing off a forest of ginger chest hair. The Elf donned a green set of robes, intricately sewn and made. The light reflected off of the silk.

Springing into action, William and Lady Pentaghast charged towards the demons with swords raised. As a bolt buried itself into a nearby Shade's shoulder, William pierced its head with his sword and twisted the blade, tearing it out and slicing again. The demon dropped, and the Dwarf grinned.

"Cavalry's here!" He said.

Turning around and slicing a Wraith, William heard a fireball fly past his head. Behind him, a Shade snuck up, aiming to kill. The Elf launched a flurry of frost and electricity in the sneaking demon's direction, freezing it in place and electrocuting it to death. It shattered where it stood.

The Dwarf emptied a seemingly infinite amount of bolts into demons across the area, killing two Shades and a Wraith that was getting ready to fire at Lady Pentaghast. She was carving away at demons as quickly and efficiently as she could, killing three in under ten seconds.

When the last demon fell, the Elven man grabbed William by the wrist.

"Quickly!" The Elf shouted, ripping off William's glove and clutching his wrist in a death grip "Before more come through!"

Before he could question what the Elf was talking about, he raised William's hand up to the rift, and the mark on his hand glowed intensely.

The pain in his hand came back in full force as an enormous arc of green electricity and light shot into the rift's heart. The gems in the rift's core smashed together, and crystalline shrapnel shot outwards, scattering like sugar in the wind. The rift exploded in a flash of light, blinding him.

A few seconds later, William's vision returned, and the rift was gone. He looked down to his hand, then at the Elf.

"What did you just do?" William asked, incredulous.

The Elf looked rather proud. "I did nothing." He said, warmly. "The credit is yours."

He was confused. He looked to his hand. "You mean..." He began. The Mark on his hand flickered with electricity. "... the Mark did that?"

He nodded. "Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky must have also placed that mark on your hand. I theorized that the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake." He said. "...and it seems that I was correct."

"Meaning that it could also close the breach itself?" Lady Pentaghast asked eagerly.

"Possibly." The Elf answered. He looked back to William with a rather hopeful look on his face. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation."

Over to his right, William heard chuckling. He looked over. The Dwarf was adjusting his glove and smirking.

"Good to know." He said optimistically. "And here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever."

Lady Pentaghast sighed audibly. It was obvious that she knew the Dwarf.

"Varric Tethras." He said, extending his hand. William shook it. "Rogue, storyteller, and, occasionally, unwelcome tagalong."

He winked at Lady Pentaghast. She scowled in return.

Noticing the tension, William decided to change the subject.

"So... are you with the chantry?" He asked.

The Elven man chuckled. "Was that a serious question?"

"It was." He responded.

Varric let out an amused breath. "Thats funny. Well, technically, I'm a prisoner." He said. "Just like you."

"I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. _Clearly_, that is no longer necessary." Lady Pentaghast said. She held her heavy scowl.

He raised his eyebrows, unsurprised. _Here we go again_, they said. "Yet here I am. Lucky for you, considering current events." He replied.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Varric." William said.

"You may... reconsider that stance, in time." The elf said.

Varric smirked, looking at the Elf. "I'm sure that we'll become good friends in the valley, Chuckles."

"Absolutely not." Lady Pentaghast said immediately. "Your help is appreciated, Varric, but-"

"Have you _been_ in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren't in control anymore." Varric said pointedly. He tapped himself on his hairy chest. "You need me."

She sighed, obviously not approving of his want to help. They obviously had a history. William noticed in the way Varric spoke that he was very persuasive as well, a favorable trait in a rogue.

"Ugh." She grunted, still scowling.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions." The Elf said. "I am pleased to see that you still live."

"He means 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'" Varric said, crossing his arms and smirking.

"...From what you've said so far, you seem to know a great deal about it." William said. "How?"

"The reason that he knows so much is because he is an Apostate Mage." Lady Pentaghast said.

Solas gave a half smile. "Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra." He stated.

So that was her name. Cassandra. He had heard Leliana say it before she tried to cut him open, but he couldn't remember it afterwards. Just thinking about the incident distressed him greatly. Cassandra Pentaghast, her name was then. Strange. He could have sworn that he had heard that name before, but he knew not where.

"My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any circle mage." Solas said, crossing his fingers over each other. "I came to offer whatever help I can give with the breach. If it is not closed, then we are all doomed... regardless of our origin."

"If I can close this rift, then I can close the Breach." William responded. "And if I can close the Breach, you can believe that I will."

"Cassandra, you should know..." Solas said. "...The magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is certainly no mage, but I still cannot imagine _any _mage having such power."

Cassandra looked back at William, narrowing her eyes. She held a small amount of trust for him now, but she still was not going to fall for any tricks. She was trying to figure him out, find out who - or _what_ - he was. What his motives were. It was hard to read someone when their cards were glued to the table.

Regardless of what she speculated or believed, William was going to hide behind the rise that he was nothing more than a prisoner for as long as he could. His only concerns at the moment were Leliana and the Breach... and as much as he hated to admit it, the incident with his love would have to wait. Until the Breach was sealed.

"Understood." Cassandra said, nodding. "We must get to the forward camp quickly."

A Seeker of Truth with a killing scowl, an Apostate, and a silver tongued Dwarf with a giant crossbow. Good Maker above, he almost felt at ease.

Cassandra and Solas begun the march forward into the valley. William looked at Varric with a sideways look. The Dwarf grabbed his crossbow from off of his back and hefted it to his shoulder, looking down the sights to check if they were focused.

"Well..." He began, lowering the crossbow and donning a smirked as he patted the stock. "Bianca's excited!"

* * *

><p><strong>I decided to style the way that I wrote this one a little differently. It wont be different for you guys in the long run, but essentially what I did was I wrote down the dialogue and actions, then filled in details later. The paragraph near the beginning, where William begins to tolerate the pain that the Mark has been dishing out originally looked like this:<strong>

**"Crazy Breach demon bombs falling from sky. Every demon that hits ground hurts Will's hand. Will quits being a bitch and takes the pain like a man, then kicks some ass."**

**I think its not only a hilarious and fun way to write in your own words what they do and then adjust it, it sets a rough plan that you can very easily change.**

**Anywho, have a nice day!**

**~Husky**


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